


air freshener

by deadbeatfreak99



Category: Chief Kim (TV), 김과장 | Good Manager (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Gay Awakening, Getting Together, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, i guess??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 09:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23468812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadbeatfreak99/pseuds/deadbeatfreak99
Summary: "You, me, food, a drink or two. Maybe three."《Seo Yul just wanted food and Kim Sungryong just wanted to be a good host; they both ended up with more than they anticipated.》
Relationships: Kim Sungryong/Seo Yul
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	air freshener

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on wattpad: 03/04/20
> 
> i told myself it wouldn't be more than 2k words but it ended up being 6k pffft anyway the fandom is tiny but i will go down with this ship
> 
> at this point i've watched the show three times and can write an essay about how they used subtext to indicate sungryong is gay alright i don't make the rules it's simply a fact
> 
> i hope you enjoy it  
> thanks for reading

"Food."

Sungryong blinked, shifted the oversized bite of bread he had in his mouth to one side and then, with all the eloquence he could muster when his colleagues were chattering and he could feel drool threaten to spill past his bursting lips, replied with a choked, "Eh?"

A sigh crackled over the line, Yul coming off as somewhat fatigued and hesitant.

"You, me, food, a drink or two," Followed soon after. "Maybe three."

At the request Sungryong hurriedly struggled to gulp down his mouthful with the help of some soju, sloshing another sip of the potent alcohol around his mouth for good measure.

"Director," he began, mirth already oozing from the singular word, "are you asking me on a date?"

The mere mention of the concept seemed to have a far greater effect than Sungryong could have anticipated: an abrupt, sharp breath from the younger himself, Manager Choo who quite nearly spat out his ramen, Hakyung whose eyes rounded comically, and the rest of the team that instantaneously fell silent, leaning uncomfortably closer to their Chief with expressions that ranged from disbelieving smiles to shock.

"You know what? Leave it," Came a snippy response, "I don't know why I even thought that. . . "

Words dissipated into an exhale of resignation, at which point Sungryong's brows furrowed and the faintest sense of guilt threaded its way through him. He scratched at his forehead, thinking.

"Alright," he spoke up, cutting the silence that had briefly fallen, "let's meet at the usual －"

"No," Yul intervened, causing the brunet to tilt his head in surprise, then waving off the jittery questions his subordinates were whispering his way, "I don't want to be around any more people today."

"But I'm people," Sungryong protested, a hand going to his chest in feigned offense, even if the other couldn't see him.

"Kim Sungryong, you know what I meant."

The Chief's ears picked up on the irritation underlying the statement and gave in, deciding he could continue toying around with the younger later. Settling on that, he let out a huff and allowed his lips to upturn ever-so slightly.

"Okay, so what is it exactly that you want to do then?"

A pause.

"I'll come to your place in an hour."

The eldest in the group's head snapped up from over his bowl of ramen, one warning finger already pointing at his co-habitant whilst his other hand covered his full mouth as he hurriedly chewed his food.

"Sungryong, don't even －"

Said male jutted out his lower lip, slowly blinking his eyes wider, mustering just enough tears that they appeared glossy. The rest of the team's attention had then shifted onto their Manager who was looking to the Chief with visible disgust and inner-conflict.

"Ugh, shit. Okay, okay. Whatever," He surrendered after some moments, ushering Sungryong's pitiful face away with his chopsticks prior to stabbing them back into his bowl.

"Well?" Came Yul's voice over the phone, demanding yet somehow anxious.

"I'll send you the address, sweetie," Sungryong added some kissing sounds out of the kindness of his heart, causing his colleagues to cringe and lean back with soured looks, yet Yul said nothing. Perhaps he was growing immune to Sungryong's playful flirting, or maybe he was simply too tired to bother retaliating. Sungryong preferred neither of the two.

"Alright," The Director agreed, stiffly, "Oh, and don't order rubbish take-out food. Bye."

The brunet pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it as though it had personally attacked him, though he was quick to shake away his glare and stow the device in his pocket. Noticing he was preparing to leave, Manager Choo shot him an inquisitive look, the gears in his head quite obviously turning.

"What, you're going to leave us early because of that jerk?"

His question once more attracted the others to their Chief who had downed the remaining alcohol in his glass with one powerful swig and set it back down with a satisfactory thump.

"Somebody has to take care of that glutton," he responded, petting down any wrinkles in his cream-coloured suit blazer, prior to picking his briefcase off the floor with a theatrical swing.

"But why you?" Heejin asked, eyes going from those of Hakyung opposite her to the man himself, as if doing so would uncover something she had missed.

"What do you mean why?" Jaejun cut in before Sungryong could reply, unbothered enough to keep casually eating, "We all know he's －" The remainder of the sentence went unsaid as Heejin not-so-delicately rammed her bony elbow into his ribs, bringing him to choke. She patted his back and offered him his glass with a menacing smile, all the while Sungryong watched with narrowed eyes he then pushed into slits with his smile as the bob-haired woman spoke to him.

"Nevermind," she said with a forced laugh, her dainty hand still roughly rubbing her co-worker's back, "You should just go before you end up being late."

Giving the pair one last lingering look, he briefly glanced over the rest of the team and raised his hand in a wave.

"I'll be off!" He announced, tone chipper, "See you at home, Mister Choo."

Said male mumbled dismissive gibberish his way and Sungryong was gone with the call of good luck from Hakyung, long strides － that never lost the skip in their step － carrying him out of the bar and into the late evening air of Seoul. He hurriedly walked his way to the apartment nearby, only checking his watch a couple (read as _a handful_ ) of times to make sure he wasn't running too far behind.

It was only when the building came into sight and he had stopped replaying Yul's words from their previous call long enough to think, that he realised that the younger might have insinuated his desire for a home-cooked meal.

Sungryong's cheery walking came to a stuttering halt.

If that was the case, he may have been very well screwed. He was a single man living a fast-paced life, no time nor energy to spend standing before high-heated plates and handling sharp knives on cutting boards. Not to mention that ever since he'd moved in with Manager Choo, he'd simply let the older do the cooking and admire him whilst he did, occassionally fetching ingredients or utensils the former required. In short, he was no man of experience and cooking was not in his list of capabilities.

Then in a panic, he fought to fit his hand into his trousers' pockets before whipping out his phone, opening up the dial pad to plea to the only man who could save him with his help.

One ring, two －

"What?"

Sungryong released an attempt at a chuckle, though the nerves beneath it shone through like sunlight striking a magnifying glass, and only then did he realise he'd been pacing.

"Manager Choo," he called in a sing-song tone, "please tell me there are leftovers I can feed the Director in the fridge?"

A sigh. It seemed Sungryong had a knack for exasperating people.

"Why don't you just order some food, hm?" Came the older's irritable suggestion, "It's much easier and I don't have to sit here in fear that you'll burn the place down or something."

Sungryong's head gave a nod; what his superior said was indeed reasonable and highly plausible. Nonetheless, he couldn't allow himself to be swayed.

"I'm quite sure Seo Yul wants a home-made meal, though."

"Seo Yul, huh?" A few murmurs in the background that Sungryong's ears couldn't pick up then followed, until the phone's microphone was uncovered, "There should be some kimchi. Make a spicey kimchi stew with the beef I bought yesterday or whatever you can think of. Search online."

Relief and gratitude washed over Sungryong, his shoulders dropping lax as he shook a tight fist, looking to the bleak sky overhead as if to say thank-you to whatever god was watching over him. A stew, that didn't sound too hard.

"Alright, Mister Choo," He spoke once having recollected himself, "Thanks. I promise that the apartment will still be standing by the time you come back! Okay, bye-bye!"

"Hey, you're setting the bar a bit low there. Hey! Sungryo－"

Device in his pocket, right hand smoothening his hair; Sungryong was ready to make the best spicey kimchi stew of his life.

Strutting his way into the apartment complex he connected to the building's Wi-Fi and scrolled through the recipes that popped up under his internet search whilst making his way up. By the time he had unlocked the apartment door and shut it after himself, his thumb had tapped the site that seemed most trust-worthy and his eyes then proceeded to skim through the list of ingredients and the procedure's summary.

Beef, kimchi, soy sauce, tofu － He should be fine.

"Right!" He exclaimed, more-so to encourage himself, "We're tight on time. Let's get started."

Shucking off his shoes and slipping his feet into the pair of slippers placed by the entrance, he simultaneously rid himself of his blazer and proceeded to instead clothe his torso with a spare apron. Sungryong then rolled up his sleeves, squared his shoulders, and marched deeper into the kitchenette, ready to give this first attempt the best he could.

Soup pot prepared and on the flame, he spent the majority of his time until Yul's arrival utterly absorbed in his cooking, finding it to be a relatively fun activity as he'd stir in various ingredients, constantly peering over at his phone screen to assure he hadn't missed a step. He should definitely try doing it with Manager Choo more often, he decided by the end of it.

Whilst the stew was in its final stages of cooking and the accompanying white rice was being steamed, Sungryong walked around the apartment and gathered any stray socks and blankets, ties and papers left abandoned, along with a scant number of partially read books. Once done with that, he found himself checking his reflection in the bathroom mirror, eyes hopping from one detail of himself to another.

His ginger-tinted brown hair was as immaculately messily styled as always, yet his eyes seemed tired and his lips appeared chapped. Despite the negative aspects he could drone on about seeing, the words that left his beaming mouth were: "Looking good, Ryong!" just as the timer he'd set for the stew went off.

Scurrying out of the bathroom and flicking off the light switch, he tended to the pot, grabbing his spoon and stirring the food which － in his humble opinion － looked pretty darn tasty. He could only hope that Yul thought the same after all the effort he'd put in but, then again, it was common knowledge that the Director was quite the food connoisseur.

Knuckles rapped against the front door and Sungryong jolted, the filled spoon he was bringing to his awaiting mouth spilling its contents and letting them slosh back into the pot. He huffed. _What perfect timing,_ he mentally grumbled.

He made his way to the door, stopped, then stared at it with. . . apprehension? Ah, what if his food wasn't good at all or what if Yul was in a pissy mood and merely wanted to take out his frustration on him? He'd rather not have to be bullied while in his (sort of) own (current) home, thank you very much.

Another knock. Right. The door was still shut.

Upon opening it, he swung it wide enough to see Yul in his full, snarky glory, burgundy suit as seamlessly well-fitted and perfect as any other, though admittedly pairing with his pale complexion quite spectacularly. Sungryong hadn't been aware that his eyes were doing a scan of their own until they reached the summit and settled on the ever-so grouchy expression that marred Yul's marble-sculpted soft features, causing him to visibly jerk away.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He began rambling, words blending together in a spew of mumbles, "After I hurried home and stayed cooking for you and － Okay, I guess you're coming in now."

Yul had made his way past him with no refusal on Sungryong's behalf, the subordinate having automatically stepped aside with a welcoming hand ushering into the apartment, then going to rub at the nape of his neck, abruptly feeling an odd aura of tension. When he shut the door, the brunet didn't bother with sparing more than a meagre glance at the Director who stood like a misplaced clothing rack in the space between the cooking area and the living room.

"Spicey kimchi stew."

Sungryong had had his back to him at the time that he spoke, voice aloof and somehow giving the feeling of being wrinkled like a piece of paper. The older paused his swirling of the ladle in the pot and a small curl formed at the edges of his lips.

"Indeed," He confirmed with satisfaction. "Prepared with lots of love and care by yours truly!"

Peering over his shoulder to the man seemingly uncomfortable, he noted the way those ink-dipped irises were avoiding his own at all cost, wandering around the space as though he'd never seen it before, trailing up the foldable ladder that led into the attic. Yet another thing that Sungryong found odd was the way those nimble fingers were fidgeting with the silver wristwatch on his left hand, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the accessory as though it calmed him.

Sungryong turned away, fetching one of the bowls he had prepared beforehand.

"Take off your shoes and set your briefcase aside," He said, then having filled both with hefty portions and turning around with a grin on his lips, "Maybe feeding the hungry beast in your belly will make it easier for you tell me what's wrong."

Yul blinked at him in astonishment, his lips parting and shutting in weak attempts of formulating excuses, coming out merely as huffs of breath.

"What would you know － I'm fine," He then assured as if he genuinely thought it to be a believable statement.

Sungryong tutted, setting the ceramic bowls down on the wooden table, one before the other.

"Now you're just offending my intelligence," He plunked himself down into his chair, "I can physically feel the stress and frustration you're bearing in heavy waves and it's really dampening my own mood."

A finely plucked brow arched and shoes were subsequently slid off, briefcase set by Sungryong's own on the floor, and Yul found himself wordlessly sitting opposite his. . . nemesis? subordinate? frenemy? Their relationship had changed quite a lot, once he thought about it.

Looking down into his serving he felt a pleasant surprise at seeing that it actually looked to have been cooked well, and the smell that wafted up from it undoubtedly promised a tasty meal. He blinked. Was his unease really so easily perceived? Maybe Sungryong was just learning to read him better.

"What? Does it not look good?" Asked the man in question, leaning over so as to look up into Yul's eyes that had been aimed low, "You're making me anxious."

The younger forced a swallow, "And you're making me uncomfortable," he instantly retorted with no second-thought.

His response brought an odd look to the Chief's typically gleaming eyes, and when the latter leaned away with slight wrinkles on his forehead and his hands minimally raised in mock surrender, he felt a twinge of guilt cut through his hunger.

Yul looked to the food again.

"Thanks for the meal," He eventually forced out in a hushed voice, hurriedly stuffing his mouth before he'd be made to speak again. His words were enough though, it seemed, for that shine of childish happiness returned to Sungryong's eyes, the brunet dipping his head in reply.

Now that he was actually eating the meal Sungryong prepared for him, the fact that it was just a touch too spicey was acceptable and went mostly ignored, for he could see from his peripheral vision that the rookie chef was watching with nervous anticipation for his reaction.

"It's good," He gave him with his first swallow, "I like it."

The luminous grin that stretched itself across Sungryong's lips was strangely worth the stinging burn of his tongue, he came to realise, and when the older let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, he rolled his eyes.

"Thank goodness," Sungryong breathed, "you have no idea how worried I was about it," and then, "Ah! I forgot the rice!"

As he fumbled off of his seat and towards the counter, Yul watched, filling his mouth again but honing his eyes on the man who was clearly out of his depth in the kitchen, yet was so eager to impress, in the meantime. It wasn't necessarily out of character for the man, but Yul couldn't help but wonder why he was so keen. Perhaps they really had begun walking the path to forming a friendship between them.

"Here we go," The brunet stated upon returning with the steaming white rice, "Give it a chance to cool before you take any."

"Hm," Yul hummed in return, chewing the far too large amount of food in his mouth.

Minutes began to trickle by and whilst Yul was, for the most part, intent solely on his food, he couldn't help but notice the way his skin prickled beneath the intensity of a calculating stare, and mid-way through his serving he could no longer stand it.

Just as he was about to speak, sight lifting to meet with that of the other, he was faced with the image of Sungryong with his chin nestled into his right palm, irises already strained on him in a way that made the younger's chest squirm. His tan skin seemed warmer beneath the yellow tint of the kitchen light and it was then that he came to feel a concoction of feelings, one of which was comfort.

Yul absent-mindedly gave a sweep of his tongue over his lips, unwilling to fidget under the stretch of a pregnant pause.

"Do you want to talk about what got you down in the dumps today?" Came Sungryong's question, voice always light yet somehow stitched with genuine concern.

A frown settled itself on Yul's features despite his subconscious refusal to let himself be far too obvious with how he felt.

"Not really," He quietly grumbled, "It was no big deal. Just many things going wrong at the same time."

Sungryong let out a hum of understanding, nodding his head and raising a mouthful to his parting lips before saying, "One of those days, huh?"

Yul grunted in affirmation.

Once again there came a pause of static, both eating, Sungryong watching Yul and Yul avoiding his gaze. And then that voice that used to irk him, smooth and drawing out vowels, asked, "But why would you come to me? I thought I was forever branded as the biggest thorn in your side."

And Yul didn't know what to say because not even he knew the answer. Why had he thought of calling the psychopath at all? Maybe it was due to the fact that something about Sungryong was inviting, alluring; it pulled you in and then coiled its unbreakable bonds around you. Sungryong was exuberant, boisterous, mischievous and over-the-top, and, no matter what he said,Yul found his presence to be a relief from the timid boredom his life had grown to be.

"I needed to breathe," he ended up saying, finishing off his meal and setting it aside.

For the second time that evening, Sungryong gave a grand smile, but it didn't seem like the rest. It felt as though it had an underlying understanding yet bewilderment to it, inquiries twirling behind the deep brown glass panes of his eyes.

"Well, I'll be your air freshener whenever you need me to be," He eventually announced with a playful tone, then slurping up what was left of the stew's broth. He dabbed at the corners of his lips with the back of his hand as Yul watched in disdain, something that apparently amused the older.

"Anyway, one of my favourite programmes will be starting any minute now," the bowls clinked as they were set atop each other and into the sink to be washed later, "and I don't plan on missing it."

Yul remained silent as he watched Sungryong's fingers struggle with the apron's knot that fell just above the waistband of his slacks, tugging at pieces and nails attempting to pick out an edge long enough for him to grab. The brunet grunted in frustration as he kept failing, before he looked over his shoulder and nudged his head towards himself.

"Seo Yul, help me."

The man's mind took a moment to process the demand but he eventually stood, not forgetting to scoff as he rolled his eyes enough that they could have seen inside his head. In a few strides he made his way around the small table and was standing behind Sungryong who faced ahead, waiting for the nasty knot to be undone by someone who could actually see what he was doing.

Yul blinked at the knot that faintly pressed into the other's lower back, apprehensive for reasons unfathomable, and then his hands lifted and settled on it, trying to work out which was the lose end. His knuckles pushed into Sungryong's back and, whilst there was indeed the shirt's itchy material keeping them from actually touching, Yul couldn't help but feel awkward.

He took note that Sungryong was reasonably shorter than him and that perhaps this had been the quietest and most still he'd seen him be for a prolonged amount of time.

"Done," He stated as the knot came apart in his hold, and Sungryong instantly stepped away, pulling the apron from over his head.

"Thanks, for a second I thought I'd be stuck with this thing forever," He folded the flimsy material and tossed it onto the the counter, "I had already planned five ways of working it into outfits."

Yul rose a brow at the statement and pursed his lips as he always did when Sungryong said something foolish.

"With your sense of fashion, I'm sure they were all terrible."

Sungryong looked to him with a grin akin to a smirk, "Who made you a fashion expert?"

Again, the younger huffed, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Don't smile like that, it creeps me out."

His eyes narrowed and his head pushed back as Sungryong took quick steps towards him, his chin minimally raised so that they locked gazes directly, a feigned look of hurt plastering over his facial features.

"Here I am being all courteous and friendly, cooking you a meal and letting you into my home, and you're rude enough to offend me," one hand had set itself on his hip as he spoke whilst the other swished back and forth between them, "Ah, just － nevermind."

Sungryong left Yul baffled and promptly went around his superior, making his way to the living room and turning on the television. Flopping himself down onto the pale grey couch with a breath of satisfaction, he loosely held the control in his hand as he flipped through the channels. Yul had belatedly followed but hesitated for a brief instant before sitting, peeking over at the brunet who brought his knees to his chest, socked feet digging into the couch cushion.

"Ah, there he is," Sungryong announced happily, a smile gracing his lips, bringing Yul's attention to the television show being aired.

"You mean the presentor?" He asked, befuddled, his eyebrows drawing together to crease the pale skin between them.

"Of course," Sungryong cast him a sideways glance, "Who else would I be talking about?"

The statement made it sound as though his question had been a foolish one, and that made Yul's scowl worsen as he focused on the screen, his legs crossing as he undid the button of his suit's blazer and folded his arms over his stomach.

"How would I know what goes through a psychopath's brain?" He murmured bitterly under his breath, though it, unfortunately for him, was still loud enough to be heard by the brunet on the other side of the sofa.

"You wouldn't, because you're a sociopath, but the answer was obviously him because he's the most attractive one there," Sungryong bit back, petulantly jutting his tongue out at the younger.

Yul's head snapped in his direction, sharply enough that Sungryong startled back and wondered if he'd given himself whiplash. For an odd moment, Yul merely looked to him with squinted eyes and parted lips that always appeared to be pouted, now that Sungryong came to think of it.

"Attractive? Him?" He forced out in his state of evident confusion, "I've thought of it before but are you － are you really. . . "

Sungryong's eyes glanced about, owlishly blinking before he leaned forward and tilted his head, "What?"

Yul stiffened, his features hardening into his typical expression of distaste, yet his pulse quickened and his palms felt terribly damp.

He steeled himself and then, "Are you really on that side of the fence?"

A pause, one during which Sungryong's inquisitive gaze dulled into one of mild intrigue.

"You mean gay?" He asked, merely for confirmation.

The word in itself made Yul shift in his seat as the whole situation abruptly seemed weighted and uncomfortable. Maybe he shouldn't have asked so brashly, he fleetingly thought.

In response, he bobbed his head once. In all truth, he had been expecting the Chief to burst into a fit of his atypical laughter, loud and dotted with wheezes, but instead there came a quiet that left him holding his breath and staring at the latter, anticipating an answer. The TV programme had since been disregarded as Sungryong brought his elbow onto the back of the couch and scratched at his eyebrow, as though considering what to say. Surely though he would already know the answer, Yul believed. Who went around without knowing what they liked? The absurdity of even considering such a thing being plausible nearly drew a scoff out of him.

"Well, I've never really thought about it before," Sungryong confessed, aloof, "Maybe I am."

His conclusive shrug only served to irritate Yul who found himself to be far too invested in the topic and incapable of comprehending the reason as to why.

"What do you mean maybe you are? You're what? Thirty-years-old? You should know by now!"

The increasing volume of his voice made Sungryong rub at his ear, grimacing, before he pointed a warning finger at the younger who still glowered at him as though he were the dumbest person in existence.

"Okay, first of all," Sungryong began, his own voice exposing his growing frustration, "don't start yelling or you'll give me a headache. Second of all, I've just never put a label on myself. I like who I like. Simple." He raised his hands in an open shrug, evidently translating to _Who cares?_

"I haven't had the time to think of proper relationships but, I mean, I've never had feelings for a woman before. Even if I do find them pretty, I just can't imagine myself with one. That presenter though?" He gestured towards the television with a careless hand but a brow arched in appreciation, Yul's own eyes automatically following his lead and looking to the man as well, "He's cute. I wouldn't mind if we －"

Yul panicked, lips pursing before he quickly raised a hand to stop the other from talking.

"I get it, stop that."

Sungryong remained with his mouth ajar, a half-spoken word falling from his tongue, then he snapped his jaw shut tight. A smile stitched itself across his face, but it was strained and lacked its usual, playful tint.

"What? Does me being gay bother you?"

Though his lips were curled, the astonishment and hurt shone in his words so brightly that Yul felt himself to be blinded by a sudden flux of guilt, and that ever-festering myriad of feelings inside him bubbled with it. He dropped his gaze away, flickering to the television that illuminated the room with changing coloured light.

"No," Came his late response, but the way his fingers gripped at the suit's material that clung to his biceps told another story, one which Sungryong bitterly misinterpreted.

"Oh, Mister Director is a homophobe," he stated, nodding his head as though it explained a multitude of things.

"I'm not!" Yul sharply denied, frowning at the word. It felt wrong to be called such a term and it felt sickening to hear the ice in the brunet's voice when directed at him. He steadied his breathing. "I just. . ."

Sungryong peered at him with feigned disinterest, as though he couldn't be bothered to continue the conversation any longer. Yul pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, scowling at the pine wood coffee table close to brushing his shins. It was impossible to do under pressure, he decided. How could he try pick apart, examine and understand what all the peculiar mix of emotions he was withstanding at that moment were, when Sungryong's eyes were making heat spread itself across his skin like a wildfire, setting ablaze the tips of his ears and his supple cheeks, his hands pathetically clammy as they set themselves on his legs instead.

"Leave it," He gritted through his teeth, regretting the way anger laced his words to the older even if the rage wasn't meant for him.

Again, Sungryong's gaze became calculating and studious, his pupils drinking in every shift and nervous blink the other made, having the creeping suspicion that perhaps Yul was merely taken by surprise, though his behaviour indicated something deeper. He rubbed his index finger against his chin, considering.

"You know," he cut through the prolonged silence filled solely by the laughter and exclamations coming from the television, "the word homophobe technically means someone who's afraid of homosexuality."

"I'm not －"

"The best way to get over a fear is to confront it head-on," Sungryong went on, talking over Yul's protest, "So, do you want to kiss?"

The younger flinched. His fair flesh grew vibrant with a near-luminous red, his heart thudding so forcibly against his ribcage he could have sworn that it hurt, but his mind － his mind was in a state of utter disarray, odd thoughts popping up amidst the chaos.

"Ki－ Have you really gone mad, Kim Sungryong?"

The man gave a wry smile, his feet thumping onto the floor as he brought his legs down from his torso.

"I always have been," He joked, flippantly. "Well? What do you say?"

Yul no longer had control over his ragged breathing, his eyes magnetically transfixed on those of the older. He couldn't comprehend why, but he was contemplating his response as if he shouldn't have known it from the start. He wouldn't like it. He _knew_ he wouldn't.

"I thought your type was the presenter," Yul said instead, as if stalling for time, "I don't look like him."

The hardly noticable quiver to his words made Sungryong mirthfully chuckle, the man shifting closer to the other on the couch and being pleasantly surprised by the fact that Yul didn't move away.

"Hm," He hummed, pretending to think as he looked to the ceiling, tapping his chin, "My type varies. I currently also really like stuck up, arrogant, gluttonous men in suits, who may or may not be homophobic."

Yul's face soured despite his every thought being fogged by the way Sungryong's smile was captivating, his eyes that were gleaming like crystal disks and the white shirt that he wore which was practically clinging to his skin, stretching over his surprisingly toned chest as he sat half-twisted, hand set on the sofa's back, dangerously close to Yul's own shoulder.

"I'm not homophobic," He finally said, uninterrupted.

Sungryong smirked then.

"I'm glad you agree that you're stuck up and arrogant."

The younger huffed out a disbelieving laugh at realising he had fallen into a set trap, rolling his eyes, and Sungryong's smirk softened into a smile, watching the former's tense form gradually ease.

An advert began to play across the television screen and the morphing lights danced across Yul's skin, reflected off the silver of his watch, and Sungryong trailed his eyes down to the hands that no longer clutched his thighs but merely sat there, unmoving. When he went to lift his gaze, he found Yul looking back at him, but his stare only scarcely portrayed trepidation and predominantly showed timid curiousity.

A silence had fallen between them, a worldless, drawn out instant that felt to go on for an indefinite amount of time, and they sat there, looking, hardly thinking, breathing.

When Sungryong almost gingerly moved the hand he had on the couch to graze his fingers againt Yul's cheek, the latter didn't falter but merely spared the touch a glance and reconnected his sight with the older's.

"Would you really hate it if I kissed you now?"

The whispered question made Yul's lungs swell, his muscles briefly stiffening before he fervently shook his head.

"No － I don't know," Was what he said, eyes momentarily flitting down to Sungryong's mouth.

The brunet hummed, purposely letting his own eyes linger on Yul's lips prior to beginning on dipping forward.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," He murmured, close enough to have his breath breeze across the man's heated face, steadily growing warmer.

Yul remained perfectly still, jaw muscles tensing and releasing as he did his best to ignore the frantic calls in his head telling him to get himself out of whatever kind of situation that was and pretend it never transpired; but another part of him didn't want to leave, didn't want to pretend. He wanted to know what it was like to kiss a man, he wanted to know what it was like to kiss Sungryong.

And so he stayed, watched as Sungryong kept drawing nearer and his eyes began to fall shut; until the space between them had been reduced to a minimum and their lips touched, Yul watched. A beat and then two, and Yul's lashes swept shut like the wings of a raven, everything seemingly falling into place when he felt Sungryong move closer, his legs pulling onto the couch and lifting his body onto his knees as his hands then boldly cupped the younger's face that had tilted upwards to meet his.

"Is it okay?" His words were muffled by Yul's lips and the latter would have replied had he not wanted to break whatever spell had been cast upon him, so he just frantically nodded, urging his head higher to meet Sungryong's.

The older's lips parted and closed, each time locking with those of Yul until they fell into a rhythm that gradually grew faster until it descended into a slower pace, the strong exhales clashing and blending with one another's even after they pulled apart, short of breath.

Yul dazedly gazed up at Sungryong and for whatever ineffable reason, the first word that came to mind upon seeing him was _beautiful_. The man was beautiful with a light tinge of pink to his tan cheeks, his lips redder than usual and shimmering in the weak lighting like rubies. Whatever had possessed him into allowing things to reach such a point was then the cause of him being bombarded by so many contrasting emotions that his mind was very nearly going into over-drive, and had it not been for the sensation of a warm hand soothingly rubbing along the nape of his neck, it would have.

He forced his head to function and his body to cooperate as he looked at Sungryong who smiled down at him.

"Well, have you managed to get over your fear?" He teasingly asked, purposely licking his lips in a way that attracted the younger's already captivated attention.

"Maybe. . . " Yul swallowed, his own hands tentatively going to grasp Sungryong's waist, "Maybe you should try again."

**Author's Note:**

> i hope it was enjoyable  
> thanks again for reading buds


End file.
